


Better That We Break

by orphan_account



Series: Musical 365 [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: But very, Gen, Horrible tags, M/M, VERY hinted at and heavily implied, codependent flatmates, first time posting, not explicitly Johnlock I suppose, post-rbf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our favorite blogger contemplates Sherlock and whether he'd be better off about him. Sherlock sees John around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better That We Break

John Watson misses Sherlock. He never realized how the simplest things that made up Sherlock could be the things that made 221B perfect: his smell, his sounds at all hours, his coat on its hook. He misses his violin at 3AM and his tantrums and his mouldy, vile experiments. He misses his voice in it's random spurts of genius, and its low rumbling of complaint. 

John Watson is finding it harder and harder to wake up, and harder and harder to fall asleep. He can't be at home in his flat; everything is Sherlock. The fireplace is absent of a skull, his leather seat is permanently empty, his room is empty.

John is not fine, and things are not all right. He needs Sherlock to speak to him, at him, anything. John _needs_ Sherlock. 

John's therapist thinks he'll get over it, that he's better off this way. Better off independent, safer without a case on his plate and Sherlock over his shoulder. Sometimes John wonders if she's right, and then he's not okay, and his heart burns. John doesn't think he's getting better. He's getting worse everyday. His therapist says that's natural, that is gets better. Sometimes he thinks it might be better to power through it, maybe  
John could have stopped it, he thinks. He could have seen the signs if he had been paying attention and not so caught up in the adrenaline, in everything. If he was as bright as Sherlock, he could have stopped it. He could still be chasing after the brilliant detective; still hearing his voice, his deductions. The therapist thinks he's sick now. That he may need help; she brings Harry into a session. She's scared for John.

Every once in a while, John goes to the top of Bart's and looks out over the city: the view is incredible. John can't tell, his vision is never clear enough to see it. His mind wanders to Sherlock, standing on the ledge and the view disappears, and John goes home.

He's not okay, he admits.  
He never admits he's better off without Sherlock. He isn't. He's hurt without Sherlock, incomplete.  


!!

 

Sherlock Holmes sees John sometimes. He's always alone and by himself. He's not himself anymore; no longer a strong and warm companion. He's a fragile, cold shell of what was left of Sherlock's blogger  
Sherlock's life has not gotten easier. He lies low, avoids everyone from his past life, whether they actually knew him or not. John looks like his life is even rougher. He looks beaten and knocked over. Sherlock is sure he'll get over it, they hadn't even known each other that long.  
Sherlock knows he's not quite right. Neither of them are fine. He wants to hear John call him brilliant. 

It's close to sentiment to think like that. Weakness. Sherlock's better without it. The pain is temporary, should be deletable. It's not. Instead it gets more and more lodged into his brain each day. John is etched into the walls of his mind. 

Maybe it will fade with more time; sentiment sticks but this is not sentiment. They're better off without each other, two broken pieces that might heal over time, not one fractured whole that is doomed to split.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Better That We Break.
> 
>  
> 
> Wow I'm sorry.  
> I don't even have an excuse for this, really.


End file.
